


Nighttime Hunger

by DarknessBetweenTheStars



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: A cute guy whose name doesn't matter, Annoying sisters, Canon-Typical Third House Bullshit., Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Just let Coronabeth have one night out by herself dammit, Multi, Overbearing Cavaliers, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessBetweenTheStars/pseuds/DarknessBetweenTheStars
Summary: Stifled by her life as Crown Princess of Ida, Coronabeth Tridentarius sneaks out of her family compound for a night on the town.Set pre-Canaan House.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Nighttime Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> I purposely under tagged this one for spoiler reasons. But please be aware it has some sexual and violent content.

It had taken her weeks of planning, studying, and memorizations of guard schedules. But she was finally ready to make her escape.

Coronabeth Tridentarius, Crown Princess of Ida’s smirking reflection greeted her from the shining, gilded mirror in her gold and white colored bedroom. Her hair and makeup were perfect. The voluminous gold locks piled messily in a cluster of curls on top of her head. Pink pouty lips were accented by a pair of sparkling violet eyes. Her bronzed skin was covered in sensuous, fragrant oil, making it glisten in the reflected light. She still wore her rings, but had forgone the usual house colors of purple and gold for a barely there black silk dress that-- while hugging her every curve-- would still let her blend into the shadows more easily.

She had grown so tired of the constant demands of royal life. For once, for just one night, she just wanted to experience the world, and be seen for who she truly was. So began her quest to sneak out of the family compound, and head out into the world alone—truly alone-- for the first time in nearly two decades of her meticulously controlled life. Tonight, the fruits of her labors would be presented to her like fat, juicy grapes on a golden platter.

After grabbing a short black cape to keep warm in the chill evening air, she opened the door to her bedroom, snuck out into the hallway, and down the hall toward the emergency exit. Having disabled the door’s wiring days before, she left with no one the wiser. Once she was outside, she quickly jogged a few blocks away from her family’s home, before flagging down a transport cab and heading to her destination.

Fifteen minutes later, the cab stopped outside a gray, nondescript warehouse that to an untrained eye would look empty. But the pounding bass shaking the surrounding block said otherwise. She paid her fare, pulled her hooded cape further over her head, and surveyed the entrance to the club. The line was long, and would likely take hours.

But princesses don’t wait in lines.

She approached the bouncer, flashed her official identification card, and was immediately led to the door, much to the chagrin of the crowd waiting behind her.

As she walked into the nightclub, she took in the sights around her appreciatively.  
Hundreds of scantily clad patrons danced and writhed on the center dance floor. There were gaming tables, and large booths toward the back, with multiple bars scattered around the room. She picked the darkest, least crowded bar in a corner. Best to drink in peace, before anyone possibly realized who she was.

“What are you having tonight?”

The cute, busty brunette bartender leaned over the bar top to take her order, giving her a front row view of her cleavage.

“Whatever your strongest specialty drink is”, she said in response, raking her eyes over the bartender’s chest appreciatively. “Actually, make that two of them. I’m ready to have some fun.”

The bartender raised her eyebrows, before turning around and preparing the two requested drinks, then setting them before her outstretched hand. She licked her lips in anticipation, lifted one to her mouth, and took a long, drawn out sip.

“Delicious. What is this called?”

“A Trident”.

The irony of the drink’s namesake was not lost to her. She quietly sipped first one, and then the other while her eyes roamed the room like a vulture, hungry for carrion. She watched couples grind against each other erotically on the dance floor to the thumping, ear quaking music. She had never heard anything like it. Proper Ida Royal functions rarely had music with this level of bass. She absolutely loved it.

She flagged down the cute barkeep one last time for a third drink. She told herself she’d have to come back again soon to get to know the bartender better when she wasn’t working. Then she slid off her barstool, leaving her discarded cape behind, and made her way into the jostling crowd. She scanned the room again, searching for a potential dance partner. No one interesting yet. She’d have to start her own fun.

She closed her eyes, and began to dance, swaying, and moving along to the loud, thumping music. Letting the beat overtake her. She spilled a few drops of her drink on her chest—she didn’t care. She danced wildly, and with abandon, moving freely like she had not done since she was a child. The liquor raced through her veins like molten fire, lifting her mood. A happy, lazy smile crossed her face. She could not remember the last time she had truly, genuinely smiled. Her days so often overflowed with overly formal, forced niceties. Fake smiles. Stiff handshakes... she felt like herself again for the first time in decades.

A few different dancing patrons tried to catch her eye. She ignored them. Until finally, her eyes met a pair of sparkling, dark brown eyes in turn. They belonged to a smiling, muscular boy with hair that matched his dark eyes; who looked very happy to be chosen as first dance partner. She thought she recognized him from one lesser noble house or another. He would do. He nodded in hello, then began to dance along with her to the beat.

“My name is—“

“Don’t care!” she cut him off, yelling above the music. “Just dance with me!” 

If he was hurt by her brevity, he shook it off fast. The two danced to song after song, getting ever closer as the minutes ticked by. His hands roaming further and further below her waist as each song passed. It had to be after midnight now. She couldn’t remember the last time she was out in public this late, without her twin sister, or herd of Royal staff.

Sweat dripped off her brow, and down her back in steamy, wet rivulets. Her dance partner briefly stepped back, looked her up and down, and smiled appreciatively. In response, she pulled him closer, before taking one of his hands and placing it directly under her breast. He smiled again, recognizing her movements as permission, before maneuvering behind her to continue dancing with a better vantage point. His fingertips drifted up the thin silk covering her chest, cupping her breast, before dipping down into her gown to caress her hardening nipple. She moaned wildly then, not caring who saw or heard. His hips ground into her own, and she felt his arousal pressed against her ass. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against the side of her neck. She turned, then took his face in her hands, and kissed him. There was a sea of people around them, but with her eyes shut, there was just the two of them, alone, in that hot, damp, crowded room.

The humidity in the air made their skin sticky as he pressed his chest into her back. One hand was still down her shirt busy pinching her nipple, as his other slid up her thigh. That hand drifted up her dress, and moved her underwear aside, while his fingers intently searched for the apex of her thighs. She felt one dip inside, stroking intently up and down her folds. Spreading the wetness around her cunt. He stroked further upwards, leaving her gasping as he gently circled her clit.

“We should go somewhere more private”, she said, while gently pushing his hand down, and away from the inside of her dress.

“I know a place upstairs. Follow me”

So she followed the strange, smiling boy upstairs. Dodging other patrons as they went, they walked down the dimly lit hall until they reached a small, unused storage closet. It was dark inside. So dark the slit of light coming from underneath the door was the only illumination. But she didn’t care. She didn’t need to see to enjoy what they were about to do.

She grabbed her mysterious companion, and kissed him; brushed her tongue against his lips, before nipping the bottom one. He gasped, and then smashed his mouth back against hers. They kissed without a single care in the world, enjoying the touch of each other’s lips, and mouths, and tongues. Again, his hand crept up below the hem of her dress, inching upward toward her core. He yanked her panties off with a tug, leaving her moaning with excitement and anticipation.

His curious fingers explored her cunt, until he once again began stroking her clit. And then they were kissing again, his mouth on hers, tasting her, before slowly inching down the side of her neck. It was so dark, she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. She only knew the gentle thrusting of his fingers in and out of her cunt, the pad of his thumb circling her clit, his hot breath on her neck, and the caress of his second hand on her breast.

She pulled his mouth back up to her own, sucking his tongue into her mouth. She moaned over and over, as she got closer to climaxing, his own appreciative moans matching her own. His thrusting and stroking intensified, getting faster and faster, until she felt herself exploding, completely breaking apart, and coming harder than she ever had before.

She opened her mouth to kiss him again as she recovered from her orgasm. Suddenly, there was a burst of light from the doorway. Before her eyes could adjust, she felt his head being yanked backward, away from her own, and his fingers abruptly removed from her body, before the end of a trident knife burst through his windpipe. Blood sprayed everywhere. She screamed, thinking she was about to die as well. The lights turned on, and she saw the owner of the hand attached to the other end of the trident knife-- her twin sister Coronabeth. Behind her, with a look of pure disdain on his face stood Naberius Tern.

“Look what you made me do! Mummy is going to be so mad at you when she finds out about this!” Corona shrieked. She gestured up and down Ianthe’s body, laughing. “I would never have dreamed you were off abusing flesh magic to make a mockery of yourself.”

Ianthe screamed again, this time in rage instead of horror.

“How did you find me?” Her breath was coming in uneven, ragged gasps. She felt as if a weight was pressed down onto her chest. Slowly squeezing the air out, like one of the oversized snakes she had seen in history books. A serpent sent by God, punishing her for her sins.

“I wondered where you were when you never came to bed. It was so late. You never stay in the library this late! Babs figured out your plan when he noticed the security door had been tampered with. I knew you must be up to no good if you didn’t even bother to come sleep next to me.” 

“Twenty years, Corona.” Ianthe shrieked. “Twenty! And I’ve never had anything that was just MINE. Now that I finally have, you ruined it! You ruin everything with your lies and fakery!”

“Oh do shut up Ianthe, someone may hear you. And fix your face before anyone else sees you too. You look like shit. You owe me a new dress by the way. I don’t care if it’s black, I’ll know that nasty boy’s bloodstains are there… “

Ianthe took a deep breath, willing the anger overwhelming her emotions to be pushed back deep down into the pit of her very being. She should be used to this by now. Nothing was ever going to change. She was doomed to a life of keeping up this charade.

Babs looked at her pityingly, before throwing her a small towel to wipe the blood off of her face and chest. Corona handed her another black cape, her own discarded long ago in the club down below. She concentrated on the necromantic theorem needed to straighten and lighten her hair, then her face. Her now much more voluptuous body, she could fix at home.

“What about him?” She asked, gesturing to the corpse slowly cooling on the floor.

“We already bribed the owner of the club. Someone will be along soon to clean him up. His family will be informed about the accident he had tonight.”

Ianthe wondered silently what kind of “accident” involved a knife through the throat. She was disturbed at the lengths her sister would go to to protect her, but unsurprised. After all, she needed her. It was hard to pretend to be a matching set without at least one functioning necromancer.

Once Ianthe was sufficiently wiped off, and pulled on her new cape, Babs held the door open for the two sisters to exit the supply closet, nodding to a security detail standing directly to their left. Ianthe followed behind her sister, as usual, and let herself be led out of the club, and into the waiting black transport vehicle to head back home.

Back once again to the prison of her lies.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Nighttime Hunger" by Overcoats.
> 
> I am assuming they don't have modern music anymore in the TLT universe, because John Gaius sucks.  
> But I envisioned Zhu's "Faded" playing in the club while writing this: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oizdzPWshHU
> 
> Thank you B for beta reading this.


End file.
